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Talk:WALL-E's Truck/@comment-2606:A000:1011:8349:B14D:5905:8979:5E5F-20190908130712
Out there, there's a world outside of Yonkers Way out there beyond this hick town, Barnaby There's a slick town, Barnaby Out there, full of shine and full of sparkle Close your eyes and see it glisten, Barnaby Listen, Barnaby Put on your Sunday clothes there's lots of world out there Get out the brilliantine and dime cigars We're gonna find adventure in the evening air Girls in white, in a perfumed night Where the lights are bright as the stars Put on your Sunday clothes we're gonna ride through town In one of those new horse drawn open cars We'll see the shows at Delmonico And we'll close the town in a whirl And we won't come home until we've kissed a girl Put on your Sunday clothes when you feel down and out Strut down the street and have your picture took Dressed like a dream, your spirits seem to turn about That Sunday shine is a certain sign that you feel as fine as you look Beneath your parasol, the world is all the smile That makes you feel brand new down to your toes Get out your feathers, your patent leathers Your beads and buckles and bows For there's no blue Monday in your Sunday No Monday in your Sunday No Monday in your Sunday clothes Put on your Sunday clothes when you feel down and out Strut down the street and have your picture took Dressed like a dream, your spirits seem to turn about That Sunday shine is a certain sign that you feel as fine as you look Beneath your parasol, the world is all the smile That makes you feel brand new down to your toes Get out your feathers, your patent leathers Your beads and buckles and bows For there's no blue Monday in your Sunday clothes Put on your Sunday clothes when you feel down and out Strut down the street and have your picture took Dressed like a dream, your spirits seem to turn about That Sunday shine is a certain sign that you feel as fine as you look Beneath your bowler brim the world's a simple song A lovely love that makes you tilt your nose Get out your slickers, your flannel knickers Your red suspenders and hose For there's no blue Monday in your Sunday clothes Ermengarde keep smiling no man wants a little ninny Ambrose do a turn, let me see Mr.Hackl, Mr.Tucker, don't forget Irene and Minnie Just forget you ever heard a word from me All aboard, all aboard All aboard, all aboard Aboard Put on your Sunday clothes there's lots of world out there Put on your silk cravat and patent shoes We're gonna find adventure in the evening air To town we'll trot, to a smoky spot where the girls are hot as a fuse Put on your silk high hat and at the turned up cuff We'll wear a hand made gray suede buttoned glove We wanna take New York by storm We'll join the Astors at Tony Pastor's And this I'm positive of that we won't come home No, we won't come home No, we won't come home until we fall in love